Every Year Until You Return
by Irony'sFriend
Summary: Setsuna Graffiti fanfiction. Ginga met a strange boy during a festival when he was in elementary, and every year, he has returned to that spot in some vague hope that he might be there once again.


**a/n: **I know Setsuna Graffiti only has three chapters, but I love it so much that I had to write a fic. I ship GingKou already.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Setsuna Graffiti._

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><p>Every Year Until You Return<p>

The boy intrigued him. Ginga didn't quite understand why the other child caught his attention, but once his eyes lit up with delight at the memory of this 'sorcerer,' Ginga knew immediately that he wanted this boy to look at him that way as well. Besides, as great as these fireworks were, they could use another special spark.

So Ginga hopped down from the porch in his traditional sandals and yukata and held out his leftover cotton candy stick as if it was a magic wand. He almost expected the boy to blow him off then and return to the festivities, but Ginga kept his cool and mysterious persona, and the other locked eyes on him with anticipation.

Ginga smirked. Yes, to have his attention focused on him felt just as good as he imagined.

As the fireworks show launched into full force as he knew it would, Ginga waved his stick with wide, flourishing movements. He smiled and danced in the cool July night, and the explosions of lights and sound overhead painted a setting for something that would burn itself in his memory.

He did not know this boy's name or his story, but Ginga knew he liked the way his eyes shined as he watched him perform 'magic.'

Ginga's smirk only faltered when the other boy grew so excited that he turned around and sprinted away. Though Ginga knew he likely needed to meet family or friends, he still felt disappointed. His arm dropped from its raised position, and the cotton candy stick fell to the ground, no longer anything more than trash.

Ginga would never admit to searching for the mysterious other boy, but he did know that the kid never returned to the festival after the fireworks.

…

And he did not return the next year either.

Or the year after that.

Ginga entered middle school, and other things became important in his life. He needed to focus on his studies as well as other obligations that all other growing humans must face. His mostly revolved around fireworks.

Still, when the summer approached the festival time each year, Ginga felt the familiar excitement and anticipation stir in his stomach. Would he see the strange boy again? He always wandered to the same temple in vain hope that he would meet him once more, but year after year, he only found disappointment.

Perhaps he moved. Perhaps he became one of those honor students who spent too much time studying to go out to such a mundane event as a festival. Maybe _he_ was the ghost after all though Ginga knew for a fact that he had legs.

Of course it didn't matter. Pride made it difficult for Ginga to even admit that he wanted to see the mysterious boy again. Even when he did make his way to the temple year after year, he told himself that he simply liked the view of the fireworks from there.

…

Eventually, they put up ropes, so no one would enter the temple during the festival. Ginga wasn't sure if he was the cause, but he ignored them and still returned to the same spot year after year. When adults came looking for possible trespassers, Ginga slipped into the bushes and hid until they left.

He never got caught.

Of course, he never saw the boy either.

…

By the time he entered high school, Ginga had given up on ever seeing the boy again. Eight years had passed, and he had not seen one sign of his returning. He still went to the festival every year, but while he always felt the slightest bit of hope, he stopped actively searching.

What was the point when he only found disappointment?

He focused on giving Kokoro a good time at the festival rather than fulfilling his own selfish desires. She seemed delighted by the sights and smells, and he enjoyed her excitement. He tried not to think of how the unadulterated joy in her eyes reminded him of someone else's fiery passion.

After he handed the little one off to Nade, he turned to find something fun to do. That's when he caught a glimpse of ordinary brown hair and a dark cardigan. Neither of these were particularly noteworthy in themselves, but a jolt almost as powerful as a firework split through Ginga's veins. Though he long ago told himself to give up on such a mindless endeavor, he left the festival and began making his way to the temple.

He barely managed a few steps before he stopped himself. What was he doing? He briefly saw a boy with vaguely familiar features, and now he was following him?

Ginga shook his head and shifted his attention to the nearest vender instead. He bought a fox mask to take his mind off dead childhood dreams, and when he didn't feel like carrying it around, he slipped it over his face. He tried to keep himself occupied, but barely moments later, excited whispers swept through the crowds.

The fireworks would soon start.

Ginga barely felt aware of himself as he slipped inside the temple for the eighth year in a row. Though he met only empty echoes and dust in the past, this time a boy of close to his age with brown hair and a dark cardigan lay on the wooden floor. He rubbed at his eyes as he sat up, and curiosity overwhelmed Ginga's rational thought.

He closed the space between them and leaned over the boy who had occupied his mind for so long.

He waited for something… anything…

And then the boy scrambled backward with a cry.

Oh… the mask.

"I forgot."

Ginga took off the failed attempt at a distraction, and the boy babbled about his classmates, but more importantly, he knew his name. He only wished he had found it in some other way than gossiping girls though Ginga couldn't think of a good reason why.

It was a shame he didn't remember him when Ginga kept him in mind for eight years. Apparently, the 'sorcerer's apprentice' had not been so impressive after all.

The boy made to leave, and though Ginga liked to think he had pride, he could not watch the boy that went missing eight years ago walk away from him now.

The words worked then.

"I'll show you something fun."

Maybe they would work now.

Just as Ginga hoped, the boy hesitated and turned back to him.

Ginga smirked.

Yes, it felt good to have that passionate attention focused on him once again.


End file.
